Fishnets
by Marauder
Summary: Angel wants to show Collins her new fishnets.


Angel had slightly thicker legs than Mimi – "not by much, honey, just a little bit, because I pick up those drum sticks and I swear I lose a pound in ten minutes!" – but they were quickly beginning to share clothes anyway. Mimi went through about three pairs of fishnets a month at work. She got rid of the old ones not because they were torn or completely worn out, but because the dancing began to stretch them after a while, and then they were just the right size for Angel.

Collins was home when Angel got back from Mimi's; he had a class later in the evening, and liked to come home and crash beforehand as soon as his office hours were over. He was lying on the bed, yesterday's newspaper scattered on the blankets, one section half covering his face. Angel paused in the doorway, her purse dangling from two fingers. "Sweetie, are you awake?"

No response.

She set down her purse – pink marabou, just like the tops of her shoes – and climbed onto the bed, leaning over Collins on her hands and knees. His long curly eyelashes fluttered slightly. "Collins." Playfully, she sat back and drummed lightly on his head with the tips of her fingers, making sure she didn't scratch him with her nails (light lavender, Mimi's nail polish).

He opened his eyes slowly. "Angel?"

"And who else would be in your bed, hmm?"

Collins grinned. "No one but my girl."

She loved it when Collins called her his girl; he was more likely to refer to her as "he" than anyone else was, but she was his girl just the same. Not in the same way that Mimi was Roger's girl – definitely not in the way that Joanne was Maureen's girl – but in a satin-pumps, strong-backed, love-smeared lipstick, hard-and-soft way that was just theirs. She kissed his forehead, reached down again for her purse, and straddled his hips. "You want to see what Mimi gave me? It's more fishnets."

He reached up and ran the tip of one finger slowly across her lips. "Baby, I told you that I can buy you whatever you need."

"Uh-uh, you don't get it, they don't make fishnet stockings that fit me in the hips and the legs at the same time. I buy the bigger ones, they're for girls with bigger waists, and I have a little waist, and if I buy the smaller ones, they fit in the waist but leave marks on my legs, and it looks like I came from some sort of bondage party." Collins laughed. "Mimi's get stretched in the legs but our waists are about the same, so these are the best fishnets I ever had." She opened her purse and pulled out the first pair. "Look, there's some sort of shimmery thread in these ones."

"Oh, very nice."

"I think so too." She dropped them to one side of his head and took out the next pair. "Now these ones I think I'm going to wear tomorrow. I don't think I ever had blue fishnets before, and these are _blue_ blue, like Kool-Aid blue. Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to use Kool-Aid to dye my hair?"

"I don't think you did."

"I was maybe seventeen, my first boyfriend helped me. First we bleached all my hair, and that came out okay, but then we put in the purple Kool-Aid and it started to look like some kind of mold or something. And I was _so_ upset, I'd been trying grow my hair long for months, and the second I looked at, I screamed as loud as I could, 'JARED, WHAT IN THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY HAIR?'" She giggled and nuzzled Collins's neck. "Poor Jared, the boy was just trying to help me out, and after that I locked myself in the bathroom for an hour and said I would never speak to him again. I wasn't always as nice then as I was now."

"Really?"

"No, I could be a little brat sometimes when I was younger. One time a boyfriend of mine forgot my birthday because his mama was in the hospital and oh, I was so mean to him about that. Called up his house and said I was changing my phone number so he couldn't ever call me again. He was crying, 'Angel, come on, baby, I love you,' outside my door for a full half hour before I took him back."

Collins rested one hand on the small of her back. "How long you been Angel?"

"What do you mean, how long? Twenty-six years. You thought I made it up? No, it's on my birth certificate, Angel Dumott Schunard." She pulled the next pair of fishnets out of her purse. "These are my absolute favorite. Look at that, how did they get little rhinestones to stay on there?"

"Don't know." Those smiling brown eyes were enough to make her melt. "All right, let's see the last pair and then I have to get up and get ready for my class."

"Oh, you do not!"

"Yes I do, honey, I was late last time because of the traffic."

"You and your computer-age philosophy. You want to hear _my_ philosophy?"

"Today for you, tomorrow for me?"

"That was last week." She could feel his body start to relax beneath hers; he was going to give in. "This week it's 'now for us, later for them'."

The hand on the small of her back moved downward and squeezed.


End file.
